Wrong Exit
by Blooming Cosmo
Summary: Spitfire AU. They never know exactly where they're going. The glove compartment doesn't even shut anymore, overflowing with useless maps that will never direct them to a single destination. Where were they even going anymore? Maybe it was none of her concern because their eyes were as open as the road, and they were invincible. Taking the streets for themselves.


**Notes:** This is an AU. Bonnie & Clyde-esque shenanigans really with deeper tones from the point of view of Artemis.

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

o.o.o

**Wrong Exit**

She hates it. She hates being made to wait. And she's making that point very clear with how her knuckles whiten with the amount of pressure she is suddenly using to hold the gear shift of the car. If he would have just let her go in, the job would be done, and the wind of the open road would already be licking her sun kissed hair back away from her face. For the fastest man alive, he sure is slow, and she's just itching to make the getaway. They'll have to talk about changing his nick name once they have cleared the cops.

The car door opens suddenly, and the sight of wild fiery hair is her cue to push her heeled boot heavily on the accelerator until the car is alive and roaring past misguided cop cars. They were idiots. Her red stained lips turn upward when his hand is resting at the top of her thigh giving her the familiar squeeze that always expressed victory and excitement.

"I think you'll be pleased with this one. Jewels. The guy didn't even have a clue until I was already out the door. You should have seen the look on his face." And he's grinning ear to ear, the excitement in his voice bubbling over as she's making a sharp left turn. He won't let it go. He loves it. And when he loves something this strongly, he'll celebrate it however he can. "And you won't guess what I was able to swipe."

Her eyes shift quickly to the stunning yellow rock in his hand, and she almost forgets that she's on the road altogether.

"Yellow Canary Diamond. Hope the wait was worth it."

_Success._

They never know exactly where they're going. The glove compartment doesn't even shut anymore, overflowing with useless maps that will never direct them to a single destination. Where were they even going anymore? Maybe it was none of her concern because their eyes were as open as the road, and they were invincible. Taking the streets for themselves.

"Exit 6!" he exclaims unexpectedly, and she has to regain control of the wheel.

"God! You could be a little more subtle about it. Looking to end up in a ditch tonight?"

He bellows a laugh above the whipping wind from the rolled down window. The air is cooling, and blowing his hair wildly. She has to tell herself to keep her eyes on the road or she really will lead them into a ditch.

"What's at Exit 6?" she asks, hands gripping the wheel a little tighter.

Her eyes flicker back to the road after he flashes her a brilliant smile, and she wonders if this life even suits him. He doesn't fit into this story, so why was he so willing to come along. He should be really living. He had the potential to go far and leave her behind. Brilliant, she would only admit that part about him to herself alone.

"You didn't have to choose this life." It's new to him. He still has a chance to leave it all behind. There's no guarantees when you're living a life of crime.

"But I chose you," he says a little softer than he meant.

She eases to the left as the exit approaches.

The heat is spreading. It originates from her stomach, and then it curls around her ever so protectively until it's staining her cheeks scarlet and escaping from her toes. And maybe she hopes that the kisses that she leaves so carefully on his skin are sizzling as much as the thumbs that are now grazing over the skin at her shoulders, looping around the simple straps of her bra.

And he's leading her in this dizzying dance. Even when she manages to almost slip on her own shirt that was recently lost to other articles of clothing scattered on the floor, he's guiding her away from a fall and closer to the wall behind her. It's thrilling when the coolness of the plastered wall is pressed against her back while his hands are over her exploring mercilessly over her scars and bruises till she's gasping and reaching for freckled flesh because _two can really play at this game West_.

It's like he needs her. She likes that. No one ever needed her. Everyone left her. Some not on purpose, but others with purpose. So it slips, and she regrets how she whimpers pathetically as he's suckling at her collar bone about him not leaving her.

"Please don't leave." It's so dumb. Why would she say that and leave herself so open and vulnerable to him? She swallows thickly when he stops, eyes fixing themselves on her own. Just green, endless majestic green fields stretched out forever and promising her a safe haven. And maybe she understands without words why he's searching for her mouth suddenly, and just kissing the hell out of her. It's all to the point of moans. She finally feels less naked around him.

It hurts to scream, but she screeches so loud when the gun goes off and he's hit. _God he's hit_. It's everywhere, his blood, and she hates him so much for being so god damn stupid. Her movements are swift, and the crossbow is already loaded. She never misses. She won't miss, so she plants her feet firmly after whipping around expertly to the cop that dared fire that bullet. He would regret this night. But he won't because the arrow has made its mark straight in the center of his chest, the force knocking his now still form back into the concrete.

There's more bullets firing, but she's much more careful than her partner and not a single one even dares graze her skin as she's grabbing Wally, and dragging him up to his feet. She has to remind him not to die because like hell she'd let him get away with something like that especially when he's bleeding all over her suit. The stains won't come out. He'd be responsible for stealing the money to get the new one from their trusted vendor.

He's lucky really, even if he's panting so heavily while he's leaning against the metal beams they've hidden behind. She's tempted to hit him for being so loud, but she forgets as she's lost at looking at the site of entry of the bullet. It's right in the middle of his thigh.

She curses. He laughs. "If you can get that out of me, we're keeping it as a souvenir!"

She'll never forget the first day he walked into her life. She punched him square in the jaw, and almost snapped his leg in half that night. It's a long night in that alley way, but there's something that keeps her there even though the heat of the night is unbearable.

"No," she says. Her words cut through him like a knife.

"I won't slow you down! Honestly! I've seen you work, and I know even bigger and better places to be setting your attention on. We'd be the ultimate partners, and might I add the most good looking partners?"

She's pushing herself to stand while repeating, "No."

He's fast. Real fast. He's standing in front of her, blocking her way.

"Listen kid." The two words appear to wound him. It's all in his pretty eyes that say way more than his whining voice ever could. The tell her to give him a chance and to stop being so hard and lonely. "You're a liability. If you come along, then it's almost a guarantee for disaster-"

Her words are quickly interrupted. "It won't! Honestly, I'll do anything to feel like I belong somewhere. Just, anywhere, but here really. Anywhere that isn't here. You understand don't you?"

She's irritated. Of course it's easy to understand the desire to run and just get out. She pulls away from his hypnotic gaze without a word at first and starts walking out of the alley and onto the dimly lit sidewalk. The warm orange glow kisses her skin, and he swears later on that she looks ethereal in it, but she only denies it and whacks him upside the head for saying ridiculous things like that especially when there were rules to follow.

"Rule 1, I make the final decision on heists. Rule 2, no falling in love crap because there's no time for it and it gets in the way. Rule 3, don't touch my weapons," she says dangerously before emphasizing the last rule again, "DO NOT TOUCH MY WEAPONS! I'll kill you." It's heated and the way she jabs her finger into his chest so suddenly she hopes desperate that he'll rethink his decision and run along back to his precious university.

"Cool!" The excitement in his voice leaves a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. It may just swallow her up whole at this rate because the words that follow almost drive her over the edge for being so welcoming. "We should totally negotiate about who calls the final decision on heists. And you wouldn't happen to have some extra food lying around anywhere would you? Starving. Oh, and what's this about you killing me?"

She shuts the door of the motel, and makes sure to close the currents and use all the locks that are available on the door. Just shut out the world. She can handle this. And she's already making it across the floor to where he's laying comfortably in bed, drooling soundly asleep. The bed sinks in a little with her added weight, and the movement of it all kicks up the unpleasant smell of the dingy cheap motel. Though it's not all that bad for a place to keep low until their names are out of their blaring headlines and the media forgets that they exist until their next hit.

_Hit. _

She's pulling up the covers that surround the leg closest to her, and she's examining his flesh so carefully, hands gently smoothing over the jagged flesh that's healed over quicker than she'd ever hope. It's just an awful scar. A scar that's permanent on his once pristine skin. Maybe she regrets it sometimes. Regrets the fact that her fingers are calloused and rough against the gentle flesh at his thigh, regrets her decisions but she can't even give it up because the thrill of the chase is intoxicating and it sickens her that if he did leave her that she would willingly just keep going with the job because she loved it that much. She hates herself.

Her reflections fall short when his hand is suddenly wrapped around the hollow of her wrist, and pulling her closer into his bare chest.

"Sometimes I wish you would remember rule number 2."

He can't hear her complaints over the sound of her sudden moans against his mouth.

It's a new day. Clean slate for now as the wind is nipping at her face. It's exciting. They're going big. They both promised that if this plan worked they could probably both run away together to some remote island and live like big fat kings somewhere. She laughs at the thought, and hopes to god that he's not really being serious because she needs this life like she needs air. It fills her and fulfills her.

"We'll have everything we need. Just imagine it! Wealth, a comfortable life, and each other."

It sounds so lovely. It's like a dream she never had.

She takes the wrong exit.


End file.
